I’m in an odd place today. Maybe it’s the delay of breakfast and caffeine earlier. I had to do one of those health screening things this morning where you go in fasting. This old gal is in pretty good shape. BP, sugar, cholesterol all good. Even my liver enzymes were in the solid green range. So obviously I can drink wine with impunity. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
I think part of it is this summer thing. The wheels are starting to come off the cart at this point. Poor Stella is just done. I knew the camp-hopping was going to get to her and it has. Even though she’s in a familiar place this week, she’s starting to fall apart a bit. She’s tired of holding her shit together. My mom gut is in knots. We were going to send her to yet another camp – just one more – next week, but I just can’t. She just can’t. I never had to do what I’m expecting her to do. Neither did Will. We weren’t expected to adapt to a new place, staff, and group of kids every single week when we were 6 years old.
Stella isn’t so great at articulating how she feels about things, but I can tell she’s anxious. She asks me quite often what is next, then what after that, and then what about school. I can tell she gets agitated during these discussions.
Will and I aren’t on the same parental page, or at least it doesn’t feel like it. He’s more of a tough love kind of parent. I’m more mama bear. I want to protect my kid. I want her to have fun and be happy and comfortable. I don’t want to send her into situations where she’s more than likely going to fall on her face – where the expectations aren’t reasonable. He thinks she needs to learn to adapt – to toughen up. I agree, but adaptation by nature is a slow process. That extra bit of conflict doesn’t help the way I’m feeling about it. Maybe it’s naive, but I would love to have him just say “it’s ok, we’ll handle this,” and help me figure out what the hell we can do.
And my brain hurts, y’all. I’m so tired of the schedule-wrangling, trying to figure out where she can be and how the Dude fits in, and who can fill in or be available as back-up. What is plan B? Shit, what is plan D? What about work? Can I take her to work so I don’t burn up my leave? How long can I reasonably expect her to keep her shit together at my office before she starts bothering people? How long before my boss gets pissed? I feel very alone with most of this.
But hey. We’re having a tea party at work on Friday. It was my idea. We’re all mad here. May as well embrace that shit, oui?
Stella has been taking swimming lessons, which is good as the girl is absolutely fearless around water. She’s doing awesome. This past weekend, I was working on a crossword while she had her lesson. I would glance down for the briefest of seconds and *boom* she’d have back-paddled halfway down the pool. I felt a lot of gratitude at that moment – that A) she’s fearless, although to be fair, that can be a double-edged sword, and B) that there are people out there that are gifted in whatever discipline and are willing and able to teach others. As her mom, I like to think I can teach my kid just about everything she needs to know (for now), but I gotta be honest: while I know how to swim, it’s ugly.
Peonies. I want some. I think they’re beautiful but apparently it gets too damn hot here for them to grow well.
Clearly I need more caffeine.